


Perchance to Dream

by HammerToFall_Archivist



Category: Blake's 7
Genre: Gen, Season/Series 03
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2002-11-19
Updated: 2002-11-19
Packaged: 2018-12-15 10:30:14
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,944
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11804199
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HammerToFall_Archivist/pseuds/HammerToFall_Archivist
Summary: By Kathy HintzeWasVila unable to be conditioned?





	Perchance to Dream

**Author's Note:**

> Note from oracne, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [Hammer to Fall](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Hammer_to_Fall), a Blake’s 7 archive, which has been offline for several years. To keep the works available for readers and scholars, we began importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project after June 2017. We posted announcements about the move, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on the [Hammer to Fall collection profile](https://archiveofourown.org/collections/HammerToFall/profile).
> 
> originally published in DIVERSE DIMENSIONS #3 (multimedia; 1983)

"Why do I have to go?" Vila complained as he walked onto the teleport skid.

"I thought you said you were bored?" Avon asked him.

"Sure I'm bored. Who wouldn't be after eight months of flying around in space, ducking Federation patrols!" Vila shot back. "But going down there is just plain stupid."

"That is a matter of opinion," Avon responded.

Cally watched the exchange from the control station, her eyes light with laughter as Avon took his place beside the gloomy thief. "Cheer up, Vila," she told him. "It's festival time on Lermyn."

"You can't enjoy a festival when you're stuck waiting for someone you don't even know!" he answered her.

"All right, Cally," Avon said. "Put us down."

"Be careful," she called, then activated the teleport.

#

The pair materialized in an alley adjacent to a brightly decorated street. Lively music drifted from one of the local spots. Vila immediately started toward the street, only to be hauled back by Avon. "Just listen to that," exclaimed Vila. "I've not heard music like that since...since Space City."

"Our instructions," Avon reminded him, "are that we go to the Lermyn Inn and wait to be contacted. I intend to do just that."

"But, Avon, can't I just take a look around? See the sights, you know."

"No," Avon snapped. "Now come on."

Vila sighed and trailed along behind the black-clad figure as he made his way through the crowded street toward an imposing looking structure. The Lermyn Inn was the largest building in the city of Merwein, planetary capitol of the neutral world. The planet maintained its vast wealth and general good standing among the non-Federation planets by upholding that neutrality. The laws were strict and shrewdly enforced. Avon took up position at an outside table, ostensibly to watch the merriment of the mass. Vila, however, could tell his impatience when he began twisting a finger in a manner boding ill for whoever their contact might be.

"You don't mind if I order something to eat, do you?" asked Vila as his stomach rumbled loudly. "I mean, if I have to sit here surrounded by all this food, I might as well try some of it." He received a glare for an answer.

A petite, young woman brushed past him and he gasped. "Katya?" Vila exclaimed. "It is you. What are you doing here?"

"I might ask you the same," returned the woman curtly. "As I recall, you and I had a date some time ago. You stood me up."

"Not intentionally." Vila, noting her glance at Avon, added, "This is an acquaintance of mine, Katya. His name is Avon." Avon turned his head ever so slightly and nodded.

"Talkative type, isn't he?" she remarked.

"Never mind about him, how did you come to be here?"

"By ship, what else. How about you?" she replied.

Vila opened his mouth to reply, but Avon interrupted. "Vila, why don't you and your 'friend' continue your conversation in a less congested area?"

"We could go over to my flat," Katya suggested with a secret smile. "You know, talk over old times?"

Vila smiled back, all too willing to leave and quickly got up from the table. Then he looked at Avon curiously. "You sure it's all right?" Somehow Avon telling him he could go off like this didn't seem right.

"Make sure you keep your bracelet on," Avon said. "When I'm ready to leave...."

"I know," Vila finished. "You'll let me know!" Katya touched his hand lightly. Vila put an arm about her shoulders and the pair walked off into the mass of humanity clogging the streets.

Avon watched them depart with a feeling of relief. He really hadn't planned on taking Vila, but now admitted it might prove an outlet for his boredom. The last thing any of them needed was his return to practical jokes. Tarrant was still fuming over the last one, Vila's revenge for what happened on Keezarn. Avon smiled to himself and viewed the populace swirling in the street. He hoped the contact would come soon.

#

Katya's flat proved to be only a short distance from the Inn. It was large in comparison to the one Vila had visited so long ago on Earth. As he walked through the door, a small brightly colored fan caught his attention.

"You kept it," Vila exclaimed in surprise.

"Of course, I kept it," she replied. "After all, it's the very first thing you stole for me." They both broke out laughing and fell into each other's arms.

"Oh, you don't know how much I have missed you, Katya," Vila told her. "Many is the night when I lay awake wanting you."

The woman pulled away and frowned at him. "If you keep up this talk, Vila, I can guarantee I will be sick in a very short time."

"But Katya, I mean...."

She laid a hand over his mouth. "Let's forget about the past, Vila. Tonight, let's pretend we've only just met, all right?"

Vila smiled at the memory. "All right. Where's the...."

"I thought you'd never ask."

#

Vila was dozing when Katya crept from the bed and slipped on a robe. Opening the bedroom door, she reached for a depression skillfully hidden in carved wall panel, pushed it, then glanced back inside the room. A pale pink mist descended from the ceiling engulfing the sleeping man. Katya smiled, then went to her wall visiphone and punched in a coded number.

The screen lit up and a very familiar voice addressed her. "Ah, Katya. By your appearance, I take it you have some information for me?"

Katya flushed. "Yes. Your informant was correct. Blake's people are here on Lermyn. In fact, Vila Restal is here with me now."

"Vila? Now why would they send that idiot?"

"He was not alone. There was another man with him. Someone he called Avon."

"Avon is here?" Servalan asked in obvious surprise. "On Lermyn?"

"Yes," Katya answered, secretly pleased. She knew that President Servalan prided herself on her sources of information and yet she had not known of Avon's presence on Lermyn. It was a feather in Katya's hat and she knew it. "Apparently," the young woman continued, "he was waiting for someone."

Servalan tapped a finger nervously on her desk. She had not thought Avon would risk putting in an appearance himself. That he did sent a ripple into her plan, but it was only a ripple.

"What of your feelings toward Restal?" inquired Servalan.

"My feelings?" Katya asked.

"Yes," Servalan replied. "According to your file, you two were rather close at one time."

"I am close to no one," Katya answered coldly. "Now, do we have a deal or not?"

President Servalan grew thoughtful for a moment, then smiled. "One of Blake's people is better than nothing, however useless than one might prove. I have some arrangements to make in regards to Vila. You're sure he cannot escape?"

Katya smiled. "Perfectly sure."

#

Vila awoke feeling better than he had felt in a long time. All that time in space, he mused, and I haven't lost my touch. Smiling, he gazed down at Katya who lay snuggled against him. She sighed softly in her sleep and Vila kissed her lightly on the forehead.

"Morning, love," he whispered.

She opened her eyes and smiled. "Is it already?"

"Afraid so. I'll have to be going soon." As if in answer to his words, his discarded teleport bracelet lying on the dresser beckoned.

"Vila, this is Avon. We're leaving. Get ready to teleport."

Vila slipped out of bed, glanced sadly down at Katya and began looking for his clothes."Don't go, Vila," she murmured. "Please. "We can start a new life here. It can be wonderful."

"I'd like to, Katya, really, but...."

"Vila!" Avon was getting impatient.

"I hear you, I hear you," Vila called as he finished dressing and snapped the bracelet on.

Katya ran to him and hugged him tight. Vila tilted her head up and saw tears in her eyes. "Hey now. It's not like you'll never see me again." Then taking her in his arms, he kissed her long and passionately.

"VILA!!!!!"

"All right!" Vila shouted into his bracelet. He pushed her gently back from him and said, "Ready to teleport." With a glance at Katya, he added, "Bye, love," then disappeared.

"How very touching," came a haughty voice from the doorway. Katya whirled around to see Servalan with two guards standing there.

"What are you doing here?" she demanded angrily. "I was to meet you at the Inn. We had a deal."

"Yes, we did. But there has been a change in plans," Servalan told her, walking into the room and casually looking around. "As to your payment, these gentlemen will see to it."

#

Vila materialized at the teleport station looking very disorganized. Cally, who had operated the teleport, managed to keep from laughing.

"You obviously enjoyed yourself," she said in greeting. "But you'd better go and get cleaned up. Avon wants everyone on the flight deck immediately."

"Oh he does, does he?" Vila snapped, surprising Cally. Then his anger faded. "Don't worry. I'll be there," he muttered and left for his quarters.

Fifteen minutes later and looking more like himself, Vila entered the flight deck and ran right into Avon. Silently, Vila took his place, aware of the fury burning in Avon's eyes.

"Now that we're all here," Avon cracked, "the information the Lermyn contact gave me concerned Ceta V. According to Orac, it's a Class 4 planet, uninhabited, passed over for colonization and which for all practical purposes is considered useless."

"Or so it appears," Tarrant commented.

"Exactly," Avon went on. "I had Orac tap the Federation Central Computer. It seems they are developing a highly classified propulsion unit on Ceta V. Something which could pose a threat."

"A threat?" Cally asked him. "To whom?"

"To us," Avon explained. "Between what the informant said and the few details Orac came up with, its stardrive capabilities could well rival the Liberators'."

"That's all we need," muttered Vila. "Servalan keeping pace with us." Quite without warning, he yawned. "Uh, sorry."

"I'm sorry if I am boring you with the details," Avon remarked sarcastically. "Perhaps in the future, you will restrict your activities while downworld to sleeping."

Vila grinned sheepishly, drawing a chuckle from Tarrant while Cally and Dayna exchanged knowing smiles. "So, when do we attack it?" asked the pilot.

Avon turned and gave his orders. "Zen, break orbit. Calculate coordinates for Ceta V and execute. Speed--standard by six. Confirm with arrival time."

+Coordinates have set. Arrival time 6.3 hours.+

He turned back to his companions. "I suggest we get some rest," Avon said. But as everyone got up to leave, he pushed Vila back into his chair. "I believe it is your turn for deck watch, Vila."

"My turn?" Vila asked in dismay. "But, Avon, I had it just before Lermyn."

"Then no doubt you have had more sleep than the rest of us." The computer expert's tone left no room for argument.

After Avon left the flight deck, Vila stood up and stretched. "Zen, any sign of Federation ships in our vicinity?"

+Negative.+

"I thought as much." Walking over to the flight couch, he stretched out and promptly fell asleep.

#

Vila lay naked in an open glass tank. There was about 2-3 inches of some clear liquid also in the tank. He didn't know how he got there but one thing was very clear, he had to get out. Terror ran through him. He could not move. His eyes caught a movement in the room. A small, rather corpulent man was approaching him. Dressed in white, the small man smiled benevolently down at Vila, then began attaching wires to his forehead and chest.

"It's all right, my boy. It's all right," the small man assured him. Still smiling, he walked over to a control panel and moved a lever. And Vila screamed in pain. Words filtered through the pain, but he could not recall what they were.

A hand touched the sleeping thief and he cried out. "Vila, are you all right?" Tarrant asked with concern. When the pilot had entered the room, Vila seemed almost rigid on the couch, his face contorted in pain.

"Nightmare," Vila moaned, holding his head and shivering. He tried to sit up but fell back onto the couch, his body trembling badly. "Just a nightmare, Tarrant." He tried to sit up again, this time succeeding.

"You're sure you're all right?"

"Yes," replied Vila, trying to steady his voice. "I think I'll go to my cabin."

Tarrant nodded and watched as the other man got to his feet and made his way slowly and shakily up the stairs and into the corridor. "That must have been some nightmare," Tarrant said to himself, then walked over to check their position. "Zen, time to Ceta V?"

+2 hours 17 minutes,+ answered the master computer.

#

In a small office of Lermyn's main hospital, Servalan grew impatient. She was not used to being kept waiting. Then the door opened and a man entered. "Sorry I am late, Madam President," he explained with a smile. "Hazards of the medical profession, I'm afraid."

She smiled back. "I wanted to ask you some more questions about our little project, Dr. Mylen," Servalan said. "According to Federation records, the subject was judged unconditionable. The top psychotherapists in the Federation have tried and failed. What makes you think your process will succeed?"

Dr. Mylen sat down at his desk and sighed. "The process I use is very, very old. Several centuries in fact. It was used originally as an interrogation method. History called it many things--pain and pleasure, reward or punishment, fire and ice."

"You still haven't answered my question, Doctor." Servalan's patience was wearing thin.

"Forgive me, Madam President," he murmured in a conciliatory voice. "The process is really quite simple. Once the initial pain stimulus is engraved on the neural cells of the subject, there is no way he can resist it. Indeed, to deviate from the set conditioning brings the instant fear of more pain. He will not be able to prevent himself from carrying out his assigned mission."

"You're sure? I want no mistakes," cautioned Servalan.

"I have used the process on countless other 'unconditionables' here on Lermyn," Dr. Mylen said confidently. "Purely for criminal rehabilitation, of course, and I've suffered no failures, Madam President."

"Good. I shall be leaving for Earth in a few days. If this proves successful, I will see there are funds and a place for you to continue your research."

The doctor smiled in appreciation. "You are most generous, Madam President."

"If my plan succeeds, I can afford to be."

#

Two hours later, the crew of the Liberator were assembled on the flight deck for final briefing.

"Tarrant, you and Vila will accompany me to the surface," Avon instructed. "Cally will operate the teleport. I want to set the charges and be as far from Ceta V as possible when they detonate."

"Why do you need me?" Vila muttered. "You know I hate explosives. Dangerous things. Dayna could....."

"Dayna is staying on board," Avon growled. "Now let's go."

#

Dusk was falling on Ceta V when the trio of men materialized in a cluster of brush. "Down and safe, Cally," Avon called into his wrist communicator.

"That's a matter of opinion," Vila quipped. The poor thief had materialized in the midst of a thorn patch.

The teleport had put them down a quarter of a mile from the base. Signaling the others to follow, Avon moved quietly through the brush toward the coordinates Orac had given him.

"Ny feet are killing me," Vila complained. "I'm not used to all this walking."

"You're not used to anything requiring effort," Tarrant told him with a grin.

"Very funny, Tarrant. Chuckle, chuckle. I'd like to see you...." His voice trailed off at a gesture from Avon. Then, "What is it?" Vila whispered and glanced in the direction Avon was looking.

An immense gate lay before them, marking the entrance to what appeared to be a large military complex. Avon indicated the locked entrance. Vila reluctantly moved to the gate, checked it, and rejoined his companions.

"It's a Class 1 lock, heavily shielded with an electrical discharge running the full length of the circuitry."

"So?" Avon asked impatiently. "I thought you could open anything?"

Vila threw him a rather unpleasant look, then returned to the fence while the others kept watch for sentries. A soft noise drew their attention as Vila swung open the gate a short space.

"Can't open it too far or it will break the circuitry beam," explained Vila as Avon slipped through the opening. Tarrant ran into a bit of trouble though. "Watch it," Vila cried as one of the satchels the pilot was carrying snagged a piece of the gate nearly jerking it from his grasp. "Tarrant, next time why don't you just blast it open?"

Tarrant glared at Vila angrily. "Keep quiet," Avon ordered.

Their target was a large concrete block structure set in the center of the complex. Patrols went by the building every 15 minutes and the sentry droids stationed at the base made the tour every ten minutes. Still, the trio managed without trouble to avoid them and stood in the shadow of another bunker, looking across at the laboratory building.

Avon's hope for some type of cover near the building was rewarded. There was a rather large outcropping of bushes just outside the main entrance and the rebels slipped in behind them.

"Vila," Avon whispered and pointed at the door.

"Right," Vila murmured and moved out towards it. He'd taken only two steps when he was suddenly grabbed from behind and hauled back. "What?" he started to say, then stopped. A squad of Federation troops were coming from the opposite direction. Silently, the trio watched as they passed.

The building contained several test laboratories and the men worked their way through each, planting the explosives. Then they reached the project control room.

Avon peered in through the glass door. The room was empty. "All clear." He opened the door and went in. "Tarrant, stay by the door and keep watch," he told the pilot. "Vila, you come with me."

"I might be of more help watching the door," replied Vila. The computer expert glanced briefly at Vila, but the meaning was all too clear. "All right, I'm coming."

Avon stopped before a small device mounted on a stand. "Hold this," he said, handing Vila the remaining satchel of explosives. "I want to check something."

Vila found a comfortable chair and sat down. "How's it look?"

"Very promising," Avon told him after examining the prototype. "But nothing for us to worry about." And there was genuine relief in his voice. "Hand me a charge."

Vila slipped out of the chair, reached into the satchel and delicately gave Avon one of the devices.

"It's not going to bite you!"

"I've only got your word on that," Vila countered.

"Why don't you make yourself useful?" Avon snapped, gesturing towards a table. "Check those papers over there."

And Avon, with his back turned, did not notice the sudden change in Vila. Vila's eyes dilated slightly, his left hand dropping to his side, moving for his weapon. Tarrant, standing at the doorway, casually glanced in at his two companions. Vila seemed to be moving in slow motion toward Avon, his weapon now out of its holster.

"Vila," the pilot whispered. "What are you doing? This is no time for games."

Vila kept advancing on Avon, whose attention was directed elsewhere. It was almost too late that Tarrant realized this was not one of Vila's practical jokes. That he was going to kill Avon.

"Avon, look out," the pilot shouted, throwing himself at Vila. The gun fired as Vila went down, striking his head on the floor. Tarrant straddled him until he was sure Vila was unconscious. "Are you all right?" he asked Avon.

Blood was dripping from Avon's left shoulder. "Yes," he replied and shakily regained his feet. Tarrant moved to help him, but Avon shrugged off his attempt. "The charges are set. Pick him up and let's get back to the ship."

"But he just tried to kill you!" exclaimed Tarrant.

"Do as I say." Tarrant shrugged and picked up the unconscious thief. With his eyes on Vila, Avon activated his bracelet and said, "All right, Cally, bring us up."

#

The last thing Cally expected was to see Avon bleeding and Tarrant carrying an unconscious Vila. "Avon, you're hurt. What happened? And what's the matter with Vila?"

She could not understand the strange look which appeared on both Avon and Tarrant's face. She only knew something had happened.

"Take him down to the medical unit," Avon told the pilot. "I'll be down later."

"You're going there now," Cally ordered and for once, Avon did not argue.

#

The wound was not serious, more painful than anything else. While Cally dressed it, Tarrant gave an account of what he had seen. Vila lay nearby on one of the medical couches, unconscious and under restraint.

"At first I thought it was one of his stupid jokes, but then...." Tarrant left the sentence unfinished.

"You think someone conditioned him?" Cally inquired.

"I'm not sure," Avon told her.

"I thought the Federation tried that on him before, but it didn't work?" Tarrant asked.

"That's what he always claimed." Avon looked thoughtful for a moment. "Perhaps he has finally acquired the nerve necessary to kill me," he remarked.

Cally refused to believe that and she knew Avon didn't believe it either. "If Vila has been conditioned," she stated, "whoever did it knew exactly what he or she was doing. After all, Vila would be the last person we would suspect." Avon nodded at her assessment.

"If the Federation have conditioned Vila to kill, what can we do?" inquired Tarrant.

"First, we check with Orac," Avon replied. "This is obviously a new type of conditioning, something Vila has not run into before. Second, we find out if it is reversible."

"And if it's not?" asked Tarrant, cautiously.

"Vie will deal with that problem when it arises," Avon answered quietly. "The charges will be going off soon, Tarrant. Take the Liberator out of orbit."

"Right." Tarrant's face was worried as he left the room.

"I'll get Orac," said Avon. "Watch him carefully, Cally."

Cally looked down at Vila, remembering Blake's conditioning and what a nightmare it had been for everyone. But this was a different kind, a deadlier kind. She prayed it was reversible.

#

Avon returned a short time later with the computer and wearing different clothes. He waited patiently while Cally connected Orac's sensor links to Vila, then inserted the key activating the computer.

"Well, what is it?" snapped Orac irritably.

"Gracious as ever," Avon commented. "Orac, I want a complete psychological scan on Vila. Has there been any tampering with his mind?"

The computer sniffed. "I was not aware that the party in question had a mind to tamper with."

"We'll discuss that possibility later," Avon answered. "Get on with the scan."

"Oh, very well." A furious buzzing filled the Medical Unit as the small computer ran its analysis. Avon glanced up to find Cally watching him intently.

"Avon, what if...." she began, but Orac interrupted.

"I have completed my analysis."

"And?" asked Avon impatiently.

"A psychological scan of the subject indicates nothing irregular. However, a physiological examination shows cellular enlargement of certain portions of the brain. This would indicate the subject has recently undergone a very primitive form of conditioning."

"But you are familiar with it?" Avon queried.

"In checking the Federation indoctrination records, I came across an obscure reference to a form of interrogation used several centuries ago. The content leads me to believe that this is the process used on Vila."

"Interesting," Avon replied. "Is the conditioning reversible?"

"Possibly," the computer advised.

"What about side effects?" Cally asked in a worried voice.

"That information is not available."

"So you are not as infallible as you claim," Avon murmured. "Do you know what the reversal process entails?"

"Of course. According to the reference, initial conditioning was conducted through a series of electrical impulses channeled into the neural centers of the brain accompanied by repeated vocal commands. Each command was reinforced by an increase in the voltage of the impulse until the subject accepted that command. Reversal of the process would encompass the use of similar electrical impulses accompanied by vocal cancellation of each command."

Tarrant had entered the Medical Unit while Orac was speaking and suddenly recalled Vila's nightmare. "Avon, prior to arrival at Ceta V, I found Vila lying on the flight couch. He seemed almost rigid with pain. Then when I woke him and asked him about it, he told me it was just a nightmare."

"Why didn't you tell me this sooner?" demanded Avon.

"Tell you about every one of Vila's dreams? Come on," Tarrant remarked.

A movement from the couch prevented Avon's reply. Vila struggled for a moment, then realized where he was. "What happened?" he asked, confused. Then he saw Avon's shoulder and his eyes widened in alarm. "Avon, you're hurt." He looked at Tarrant. "What happened?"

Avon did not miss the worry present in Vila's voice when Vila saw the wound. "I ran into a little trouble, that's all. What is the last thing you remember?"

"The last thing?" Vila groaned. It hurt to think.

"The very last thing," explained Cally. "It is important, Vila."

Vila squirmed uncomfortably. "I...I remember Avon asking me to check some papers. Then nothing until waking up here." He could not understand the exchanged glances. "Avon, why am I strapped down?"

"Zen says long-range scanners detect no ship within our immediate area," Dayna reported as she entered the room. She glared at Vila, then walked over to Avon. "How's the shoulder?"

"I'll live."

"Cally, what's going on?" Vila cried, fear building in his eyes.

"Vila, I want you to tell me everything you did while on Lermyn. Leave out nothing," demanded Avon.

Frightened by Avon's tone, Vila complied. "After...after Katya and I left you, we went to her flat. It's a nice little place not far from the Inn. We 'exchanged' memories, then went to sleep. I woke up in the morning, you contacted me and I teleported up."

"Nothing else? No little detours anywhere to try the local food or drink? Nothing to boost your 'courage'?" asked Avon, suspiciously.

"Nothing else," Vila said defensively. "I don't need anything like that, not with Katya."

Cally smiled, as Tarrant and Dayna choked down laughter. It might have been funny, but for what had happened down Ceta V. Avon did not share their amusement, though. He had hoped for something to indicate when the conditioning had taken place.

"Orac, are you able to determine how long ago the conditioning took place?" Avon asked. And Vila's eyes grew wide as Orac replied.

"Indications are that conditioning was implemented within the last 24 hours. Recommendation is that immediate reversal of process should take place."

Avon reflected a moment, then nodded. "Tarrant, I want you to keep watch on the flight deck. There's more here than meets the eye. And if this is some trap of Servalan's, I don't want to be caught napping."

"Neither do I," the pilot answered and started for the door.

"Dayna," Avon added, "I want you to go to Vila's cabin. Check his clothes, search his cabin. He may have brought a homing device up with him."

"All right," the girl replied and followed Tarrant out of the room.

#

"Avon, it's not possible. The Federation psychotherapists said I was unconditionable," Vila exclaimed. "I can't have been conditioned."

"We shall see," Avon told him quietly. He drew a chair up close to Vila's couch and said, "Cally?"

Wordlessly, Cally adjusted the sensor links as Orac instructed. One was placed over the area of the medulla oblongata on the back of the neck in addition to the two already on either side of his forehead. Two more were placed at equal distances on his chest. Vila watched the procedure with pure terror in his eyes.

"All right, Orac. We're ready," murmured Avon, his eyes never leaving Vila's face.

"Cally, Avon, please tell me what's going on?" begged Vila. "Why?"

The last word dissolved in a terrible scream as Orac sent the first charge into the cerebral center of his brain. Vila's mouth went slack, his eyes fixed and dilated.

Cally checked the monitor, then nodded to Avon. Staring deep into Vila's eyes, Avon saw pain and fear for a moment, then nothing as Vila's mind was opened for interrogation.

"Confirm previous instructions given?" Avon requested, sounding as if he was addressing a computer.

"My...my primary instruction is to kill Kerr Avon," came a monotone voice bearing no resemblance at all to Vila's.

"On whose order?"

"President Servalan."

"As I suspected," Avon muttered aloud. "Vila, you will disregard this instruction. The effort is to be canceled. No further attempts are to be made on the life or person of Kerr Avon. Is that understood?"

"I...I am to kill...." The voice faded as fire ran down Vila's nervous system into his frail body. No sound emanated from Vila. His level of pain had surpassed that simple stage of release. Only the contorting of his face and the trembling of his body gave any indication of his anguish.

"You are not to kill Kerr Avon or attempt such act at any further time. Do you understand?" Avon repeated, keeping his voice void of emotion.

Vila's frame was shaken repeatedly by severe shocks as Orac reinforced Avon's order. Come on, Avon thought to himself. Acknowledge, acknowledge.

"I...I will not attempt such act at any further time," came the response finally.

Avon smiled in relief. One obstacle out of the way. "How was the primary sequence initiated?"

"Through utilization of a trigger word to be furnished by Kerr Avon himself."

"And the word, what was it?"

"Useful," Vila replied.

Avon thought back and remembered how he had used that word. Servalan was diabolical. "Were there further instructions?" he inquired.

"Secondary directive," Vila continued. "Overpower the remaining crew with depressant gas, then contact Madam President at the Lermyn Inn for disposition of ship and prisoners."

"She was there, on Lermyn?" gasped Cally.

"Obviously," Avon reflected. "I am beginning to wonder if this was not all part of her plan. The propulsion system on Ceta V was of a superior design to the present Starburst, but hardly anything for the Liberator to worry about."

"And that friend of Vila's, Katya," Cally added. "She had to be part of the plan, too."

"Yes," murmured Avon. "In the future, Vila had better stay clear of his 'old' friends." Turning his attention back to Vila, he ordered, "You are not to take control of the Liberator by any means nor are you to harm any member of its crew. Do you understand, Vila?"

"I..I.." Vila's voice wavered with effort. "I understand."

"Nor are you to make contact with Servalan or any member of the Federation at any time," Avon continued. "Is this understood?"

"President Servalan ordered...." Agony lanced across Vila's twisted features, bringing Avon to his feet with worry written visibly on his face.

Cally nervously looked at the monitor. "He's holding on, somehow," she sighed. "How much more, Avon?"

"I don't know," he said in a concerned tone. "Certain parts of the commands are more deeply implanted than others. He looked down at Vila. "Vila, you are not to make contact with Servalan or any other member of the Federation. Do you understand?"

Orac flashed torment through the sensors demanding acceptance of the order. "I...I...understand," came a weary, pain-ridden voice which sounded a little like Vila.

"There were no more instructions?" Avon inquired. He had to be certain that he overlooked nothing.

"No more," Vila moaned, his words a plea for the torture to end. "No more."

"Very well," Avon sighed. He was about to ask Cally something when Vila let out a terrible shriek and went limp. His companions quickly checked his condition and found his pulse weak, his respiration shallow.

"Reversal process is now complete," announced Orac. "Termination impulse will initiate sequence of implanted commands. I would, however, suggest a strong sedative for immediate relaxation of subject's mind and physical well-being."

Cally prepared the injection and sent the drug streaming into Vila's system. "Prognosis of treatment?" Avon requested, watching Vila's pale features slowly relax under the influence of the narcotic.

"Preliminary data indicates reaction to process appears favorable. However, I will reserve judgement until subject regains consciousness and further tests can be made."

Avon sat back down and closed his eyes. "How long until Vila regains consciousness?" he asked wearily.

"Due to the stress and duration of deprogramization, I would estimate approximately four to six hours."

Cally gently removed the sensor links from Vila and laid a thin cover across him. Then she asked, "Avon, what if the treatment doesn't work? What do we do?"

Avon opened his eyes and looked up at her. "What would you do?"

Startled by the implication, Cally murmured, "You would not kill him?" But Avon only returned her stare. After checking the monitor, she walked to the doorway and said, "I will be in the rest room if you need me." Avon nodded and she left.

Rubbing his sore shoulder, Avon moved to the other medcouch to await Vila's awakening. Exhaustion and his own shock, however, soon claimed him and he fell asleep.

#

Five hours later, Vila shattered the air with a horrible scream. "Avon! No!" His eyes were open but unseeing as Avon approached the couch. Vila fought against the straps until the sweat ran from his body. Finally, focusing his eyes, Vila saw Avon standing next to the couch, watching him.

"Tell me it was a dream, Avon," he pleaded. "A nightmare caused by too much to drink." The computer expert remained silent. "Please, Avon!"

"It was not a dream, Vila," Avon replied quietly. "Your aim, however, was bad." There was no accusation in his voice, merely acceptance of what had happened. "Can you remember what happened?" he asked, pulling a chair to the side of the couch.

His eyes filled with tears, Vila explained about waking up in the strange room. "I couldn't move," he murmured. "Then this man in white came over and connected wires to me." His voice wavered with the recollection of what was to come. "And someone was standing near the door. I only got a glimpse, but I think it was Servalan, Avon. Then the pain...the pain started." Vila began shaking violently.

In an uncharacteristic move, Avon laid a hand on Vila's shoulder and looked into Vila's tearful eyes. "You are not responsible, Vila," he murmured gently. Then he looked up and his voice turned cold. "Servalan is."

"It can't happen again, can it?" Vila asked.

Avon paused a moment, then glanced down at Vila. "It depends on how 'useful' you were to be to Servalan." Vila's eyes remained the same, no change. But Avon had to be certain. "You remember, Vila, I asked you to be 'useful' and check the papers when we were down on Ceta V?"

Vila looked puzzled for a moment until he realized what Avon was doing. When Avon smiled, Vila relaxed. Whatever Avon had tried, he seemed to have passed.

"Try to get some sleep," Avon told him. Reaching across, he started to remove the straps, but Vila stopped him.

"Leave them for now," Vila said, his eyes pleading with Avon. "Just in case." Avon studied him for a minute, then nodded slowly and left for the flight deck.

#

When he arrived at the flight deck, Avon ignored the questions of Dayna and Tarrant and activated his console's communicator. "Cally, this is Avon. Come to the flight deck, please."

"On my way, Avon," came her reply.

"I see no reason to repeat myself," he explained to the others while they awaited her arrival.

It was not long in coming. "Well?" Cally asked in a concerned voice, her face flushed from running.

"He appears to be all right," replied Avon.

"Appears?" Tarrant echoed. "But you're not sure?"

"No, I'm not," snapped Avon.

"Then what do we do?" asked Dayna.

"We pay a visit to Servalan," Avon told them coldly. "Zen, course change back to Lermyn. Speed standard by twelve."

+Confirmed.+

#

The door to her private suite at the Lermyn Inn slid open and President Servalan stood silhouetted in the corridor's light. "Have the ship ready in the morning, Captain Denfro. I want to leave as early as possible."

"Yes, Madam President," the officer replied. "Goodnight."

"Good night," she murmured. But as the door closed behind her, Servalan found she was not alone. The cold barrel of a gun caressed the side of her throat.

"It's still early, Servalan," came a hard male voice.

"Avon?" she exclaimed, unable to hide her surprise.

"You sound surprised," Avon remarked. "Who were you expecting--Vila?"

Recovering her composure, she turned to face him, smiling. "I should have known that fool would bungle it." She glided to a nearby couch and sat down. "So what happens now?"

"You are acquainted with the laws governing the neutrality of Lermyn?" he asked her, seating himself across from her.

Servalan nodded. "Of course," she murmured.

"I'm glad," Avon answered. "You see, I have requested an inquiry be made into the forcible kidnapping of one of my crew."

"You have no proof of that. Besides, who would believe Vila?" she laughed. "Your inquiry is groundless, Avon."

"Not so," he countered. "I took the liberty of stopping by Katya's flat, Servalan. Your men were not very efficient. Katya had a small business unknown even to you. One which dealt in blackmail."

Avon had Servalan's full attention now and he enjoyed every minute of it. "The bedroom is equipped with a small but very sophisticated camera which takes ideal holographic images of anyone who enters it." Servalan gasped involuntarily.

He smiled at her discomfort. "When I lodged my inquiry, I also gave them the camera. Lermyn's Planetary Council should be meeting right about....."

A rather loud knock on her door made Avon pause. "Madam President." The voice belonged to Captain Denfro. "I'm sorry to wake you, but it's a matter of urgency. Madam President?"

"Now." Avon stood up. Servalan jumped from the couch and made a wild dash for the door.

It slid open and Servalan grabbed for the captain's weapon. "Avon is in here," she exclaimed, whirling around with the gun in her hand. But the room was empty. Her prey had eluded her again.

"President Servalan?" boomed a deep male voice, drawing her attention back to the doorway. The man speaking wore the uniform of Lermyn's Security Force. "Your presence is requested in the chamber of the Planetary Council. You will accompany us immediately."

"For what reason?" she demanded, her composure back in place.

"That is not for me to say. You are to dress yourself and accompany us at once or we will be forced to resort to less peaceful methods."

"That will not be necessary," Servalan conceded. "Allow me a few moments and I will be ready." Closing the door, she sat down to contemplate her situation. "You've won this time, Avon," she spoke aloud. "But we shall face each other again."

#

Two days later and far from Lermyn, a hesitant Vila approached the flight deck, his stomach threatening revolt. Cally walked alongside, giving him encouragement. "Orac has certified your recovery, Vila. Relax. No one is angry with you."

"But how can I face them, Cally?" he murmured, stopping dead in his tracks. "After...after what I almost did?"

"Avon knows it was not your fault," she told him gently. "So do Tarrant and Dayna." When Vila still didn't move, she pulled him forward by the arm. "You can't hide forever, Vila. Now come on."

With Cally preceding him, Vila walked slowly onto the flight deck and down the steps, feeling everyone's eyes upon him. Avon spared him a glance, then returned to a project he was working on while Tarrant and Dayna both smiled a greeting. Weakly, he returned their smiles and moved to his position.

"What will happen to Servalan, Avon?" asked Cally, breaking the silence.

"According to Lermyn law, she could face a sentence of life in prison."

"Which I am sure she has no intention of serving," remarked Dayna.

"Nor do I," Tarrant added wryly. "So far, what I have picked up is at least twenty Federation ships all heading for Lermyn to rescue their 'kidnapped' President."

"I wonder what Lermyn's reaction will be to that?" Cally mused.

"At least it will keep Servalan occupied for a while," Tarrant told her.

Avon said without looking up from his project, "I think for a while we'd better confine any stops we make to carefully scanned, uninhabited worlds."

"Uninhabited?" Vila exclaimed. "That's all very well for those who don't require human comforts. But some of us need the presence of a warm, friendly, understanding soul to share our troubles with."

"Some of us meaning who?" queried Avon, glancing at Vila curiously.

"Oh don't worry, Vila," Dayna laughed. "I'm sure that somewhere there's something warm and understanding waiting just for you."

"I don't like the way you said that," Vila retorted. "Not one bit."

"Zen, set coordinates for Pallas VI," Tarrant ordered.

+Confirmed,+ replied the computer. It appeared everything was back to normal.

the end


End file.
